


Harbor Me

by end_alls



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Antics Ensue, Cuddling, M/M, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, emetophobia warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27924757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/end_alls/pseuds/end_alls
Summary: Sora is brought back to life, but he comes down with a strange sickness on account of one last hitchhiker inside his heart who wants out.
Relationships: Sora/Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 124





	Harbor Me

**Author's Note:**

> Emetophobia warning in the beginning here! It's pretty smooth sailing after that though.

Sora leaned over the sink coughing, trying to expel whatever was stuck in his throat. He’d been back less than a week and he’d spent most of it in bed, feeling awful. It was easy enough to put on a brave, cheerful face for the others—especially in the beginning—but here, alone in the private quarters that Aqua had set aside for him, the bright walls he put up fell to pieces, and he hacked up black liquid that left his throat burning.

Sora stared at the dark splatter in the sink through watery eyes, trying to understand it. He’d been revived, brought back complete, which meant he shouldn’t have this gross stuff left inside him. Unless, he feared, he hadn’t been brought back right.

As much as he’d been through, he still didn’t quite understand the logistics of how all this worked—what the rules were. He’d probably broken all of them anyway, what with his pitstops in the Final World and his jaunts through time. Maybe this sickness was his body finally deciding it had had enough.

He coughed again, weakly, and then something seized between his lungs, so intensely he had to spin to the bathtub to prepare himself for what he was about to retch up. He clutched the side of the polished stone it had been carved from, and vomited out a stream of what could only be described as sticky black ink, sputtering as he tried to clear it from his mouth. It tasted like blood and darkness, and through the haze of nausea Sora lamented how difficult it would be to clean up before the others could find it. At that thought, a cold, panicked feeling washed over him suddenly, and he gripped now-slick fingers on the edge of the stone, bracing himself for a second stream of ink that bubbled up his throat and out into the tub.

Groggily, Sora registered someone grabbing at his shirt, and he struggled limply away from the clammy hand. This only caused it to try to grab his shirt again—more tightly this time.

“Wh—Wh—” A damp, shivering voice was trying to form words. _“Where. A-Am I?”_ Another hand joined the first, lifting up Sora with such force that he managed to wake completely.

The bathroom was dim—the sun must have started to go down while he was unconscious—and Sora squinted, trying to figure out how the mirror could have ended up in the bathtub.

The hands shook him again. _“Where am I.”_ Sora looked down at the ghostly hands balled in his shirt, then up again as recognition dawned. He wasn’t looking at a mirror. But he was looking at his face.

“Vanitas…?” he mumbled.

At least one thing was different about him this time, though. Red eyes flashed in the low light as Sora was pulled close enough to smell him—iron, like the scent of blood. “Answer me,” he hissed.

“The Land of Departure,” Sora said blankly, eyes falling to Vanitas’ body, which looked splattered with ink. Instead of the last outfit Sora had seen him in, stretches of black darkness clung to him all over like a tattered bodysuit.

Vanitas’ eyes held him like a knife against his throat, but Sora just blinked at him. He didn’t feel sick anymore, and he had just realized why.

Vanitas was quiet after that. He sat in the bathtub, staring at the ink stains smeared on its sides until Sora came back with some warm clothes and handed them to him. Then he said, “Get out." and Sora left again to sit on his bed and try to puzzle this out.

Vanitas had been somewhere inside him, obviously, but how had he made it for so long? When the others had all left what seemed like ages ago? Sora’s hand found his chest. The absence of Vanitas was hardly noticeable, but he could feel it if he searched—like the bloody hole left by a pulled tooth.

Some time later, Vanitas emerged from the bathroom in the plain shirt and sweatpants, the shredded suit likely left behind in the tub. Sora almost laughed at the normalcy of it, as if he and the darkness he’d been harboring were having a sleepover, and Vanitas had just changed into pajamas.

The first thing he said was, "Are they coming for me?"

"Who?" Sora asked, standing in case Vanitas needed help walking. One of his hands was gripping the bathroom door frame, white-knuckled like he was having trouble remaining upright.

"Aqua," Vanitas said. "Ventus and Terra." His eyes were sharp, but it wasn't lost on Sora the way they darted between him and the door.

“Did you want me to go get them…?” Sora asked, just in case he’d misinterpreted the situation.

“No!” Vanitas barked, even as the hand that supported him began to tremble. “Don’t even think about it—” He swiped his free hand out to summon his Keyblade, but it didn’t come. Sora caught him before he stumbled.

“Vanitas…!” Sora struggled to loop his arms under Vanitas’, and he almost shivered at how cold he was. It was like hugging a fish, and true to form, Vanitas immediately thrashed out of his grip, nearly hitting his arm on the threshold of the bathroom door.

“Don’t _touch me!”_ Vanitas scrambled backwards on the stone tile.

Sora put his hands up. “I just want to help!” He winced. If they kept being this loud, someone might come to check on them. Quieter, he said, “Listen— _listen!”_ Vanitas had started to look at the walls, as if hoping an escape route had suddenly appeared, but the bathroom’s only window was a skylight. Sora crouched next to him. _“Vanitas,”_ he said severely. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to tell anyone you’re here if you don’t want me to.”

The expression on Vanitas’ face kept changing with each breath in and out, from fear to anger to confusion, but eventually his heaving chest began to slow as his face settled more comfortably into suspicion. “Why?”

With a sigh, Sora sat down on the tile next to him. “Because it’s my fault you got brought back like this. I didn’t help you before.” Sora brought his eyes to catch Vanitas’. “But I’m going to help you now.”

Vanitas turned his head away, looking into the bathtub again. Sora would have to clean it at some point, but if anyone else came in here he figured they’d have different problems with what they found in the bathroom. So they sat there, silent until Sora heard the clock chime for dinnertime. He stood up slowly, like he would around a wild animal, and checked his reflection in the mirror. The only evidence of what had happened was a smear of black around his lips, which he washed off in the sink before turning to go.

“Where are you going?” It was supposed to sound like a threat, maybe, but Sora thought it sounded like Vanitas didn’t want to be left alone.

“It’s time for dinner,” Sora explained. “If I don’t go, Aqua will come to see if I’m okay.” Vanitas said nothing at that, but his wide red eyes had a mournful edge to them that made Sora promise, “I’ll be right back.”

Sora returned with a plate of food and set it before Vanitas, who still hadn’t left the bathroom. Even though Sora had expelled what had been making him sick, his appetite hadn’t recovered yet. Vanitas, on the other hand, definitely looked like he could use a good meal.

For a moment Vanitas stared at the plate like a book written in a language he didn’t understand, and Sora thought maybe he didn’t need to eat after all, but then he began shoving the food into his mouth like silverware hadn’t been invented.

“Do you want me to get you more?” Sora asked once he was through.

In a non-response, Vanitas shoved the emptied plate back at him, eyes burning. Sora returned to the kitchen and refilled the plate, relieved he didn’t even have to come up with an excuse. Aqua just patted his head and said he was looking a lot better before she slipped an extra muffin onto his plate.

Even after a second dinner _and_ one of Aqua’s amazing muffins, Vanitas wasn’t much for conversation, and Sora didn’t know how to start one.

“So, how are you feeling?” Nothing. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Silence. Sora sighed. “You sure were chatty the last time I saw you, Vanitas. What gives?”

“Get out.”

Sora rolled his eyes and took the empty plate. “I’ll be right back.”

When it got late enough, Sora offered Vanitas the bed, doubtful he’d ever had a proper one, but he refused it. “Are you just going to sleep in the tub, then?” Sora asked, exasperated.

“I was asleep for a long time,” Vanitas said. “But then I began to stir, tangled in you.”

“Oh, _now_ you want to talk?” Sora folded his arms.

“You carried me with you for so long, like the shadow your heart casts on your lungs.”

 _“Yeah,_ Vanitas. That’s pretty obvious to both of us. What I want to know is what you want to do _now.”_

Vanitas drew his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. Sora noticed him start to shiver, and stomped off to get a blanket. Vanitas had been giving him a fever the past few nights, so it was already rolled up at the foot of the bed, unused. Sora pulled the blanket off, brought it to the bathroom, and threw it over Vanitas’ head, sending him flailing like a spooked cat.

“There. I’m going to bed. Decide what you want to do tomorrow. Or leave if that’s what you want. The door isn’t locked.” With that, Sora shut the bathroom door, turned off his lights, and climbed into bed.

Sora was woken by a shiver through his chest. He pulled the sheets up higher and rolled over.

Vanitas stood in the threshold of the bathroom, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and looking like some cloaked ghoul waiting until Sora fell back asleep to eat his face.

Sora groaned at him. “What?”

The figure was so quiet that Sora thought he might still be dreaming, but then Vanitas ghosted across the floor towards Sora’s bed. He stood there, still, until a shiver nearly shook the blanket from his shoulders. Sora felt its echo inside his own chest. That must have been what had woken him.

“Can’t get warm?”

Yet again, Vanitas said nothing, and Sora sat up. “Come on then.” He pulled the sheets aside to make room for Vanitas. “Get in,” he said when Vanitas didn’t move.

“There aren’t any other blankets in here, Vanitas. If you want to get warm, you don’t have much of a choice.”

Vanitas looked at the door to the bedroom, deliberating, but Sora had already guessed what his decision would be. Eventually, the blanket-clad figure lowered himself to sit on the bed with as much solemnity as he could muster, and Sora tugged one edge of the blanket from him to pull it around the both of them. Sora readjusted to lean against Vanitas’ shoulder.

The contact shocked them—Vanitas because of the touch, and Sora because of the _cold._ Vanitas felt like he’d been left outside in winter, even through both their shirts. “Geez, Vanitas! Does your body know what circulation is?” Sora said, bracing himself as he tugged the blanket tighter around them.

It seemed to take forever, but Sora finally felt Vanitas fold. His guarded posture opened just a fraction, and then he turned his chest towards Sora and drew his legs up onto the bed. Sora moved before he could change his mind. He threaded his arm around Vanitas’ back, and used his other to keep the blanket around them as he gently lowered Vanitas onto the bed. Now that he wasn’t resisting, it was surprisingly easy to move together—as if Vanitas had gone back to being his shadow.

They settled into Sora’s bed, Vanitas pressed up against Sora’s chest with the blanket on top of them. After a while, Vanitas began to melt into him, relaxing his posture even more as the cold began to leave him. He nuzzled into Sora, slow as a glacier, like he still couldn’t get warm enough. Sora tried to open himself up to share more of his warmth, and wrapped both his arms around Vanitas’ back to pull him closer. He could feel the rise and fall of Vanitas’ breath against his hands on his back, and its brush in the crook of his neck. It reminded him of the cool tides of the islands right after the sun goes down, and eventually, he fell back asleep.

Sora thought Vanitas would be gone in the morning, but he wasn’t. Sora found him in the bathtub again, blanket and all. Unfortunately, the sunrise hadn’t transformed him into a conversationalist.

“Get out.”

“It’s _my_ bathroom, Vanitas.”

But Vanitas got what he wanted anyway, because just then there was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Sora?” Aqua’s voice. She’d probably brought him breakfast, the saint. He’d quickly learned that now that she was back home, she’d taken to presiding over the Land of Departure like a queen and Master alike—making sure that everything was in order, and that everyone was always taken care of. “I hope I’m not waking you.” Aqua had given him a regimen of bedrest, and had been the one to keep the others from overwhelming him with visits until he’d recovered. Speaking from experience, the Realm of Light was a lot for the body to get used to after so long away.

“Coming!” Sora called, shooting Vanitas a look before closing the bathroom door. It'd been _his_ fault that each hug from his friends had made Sora feel nauseous.

Sora opened the door and, as expected, found Aqua holding a tray with pancakes and honey milk tea. Sora could have cried. “Aqua, this looks amazing!”

She chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it, Sora. It seems like your appetite is back, so I made you some extra.”

“Thanks, Aqua!” Sora said, beaming as he took the tray from her.

“You should get yourself cleaned up—Riku will want to come see you.” Sora tried not to let his smile fall as he suddenly remembered that now that he wasn’t feeling like death _of course everyone would want to come see him_. Aqua took his lapse in attention to rub her finger along Sora’s collarbone like she was checking for dust. Her finger came away smudged with black. “What’s this? Charcoal?”

“Uhh…” Vanitas must have gotten it on him last night. Sora’s mind spun like an attraction flow. “Last night I sneezed and cast a fire spell by mistake—I guess that was from the smoke.” He put his heart into the lie as best he could, but it still tasted bitter on his tongue.

Aqua tutted and put a hand to his forehead, holding it there a while to appraise his temperature. She pulled it away after a few seconds and said, “If you’re not feeling up to it I could tell the others to wait a little longer, but I sent out a communication saying you looked better just a little while ago, so Riku might already be on his way.”

Riku was _definitely_ already on his way. “Oh, that’s okay,” Sora said, pulling back into the room with the tray. “I’ll get cleaned up, but don’t invite everybody over just yet, okay?” He added a little cough for effect.

“Of course,” Aqua said understandingly. “I’ll check on you later, all right?”

“Okay!” Sora smiled and closed the door with his foot.

As he turned around, he watched the bathroom door quickly shut. After he’d set down the tray on the desk, he approached the door and huffed, “You heard that, right? So what are you gonna do? You obviously didn’t take the chance to leave last night.”

When there was no answer, Sora tried the knob, but it was locked. “Vanitas!” he hissed. “Riku’s coming and you got ink on me and I still haven’t cleaned the bathroom!”

After a few more seconds of silence, he heard the bathtub faucet turn on. Sora sighed and stepped back, downed half the milk tea, then shoved a rolled-up pancake in his mouth as he went digging for another towel and change of clothes. “Have it your way, but I’m going to find another tub,” he told the bathroom door. “Don’t let anyone in—or do! Whatever!”

He looked both ways before creeping outside his bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him.

The Land of Departure castle wasn’t as big as it had been as Castle Oblivion, but it was still meant to hold a lot more people than it did now, so Sora didn’t have to look for long. He’d been too sick to enjoy a proper bath before, so he decided to take his time getting cleaned up and changed. In the process, he found more smears on the sides of his body, like Vanitas had gotten his clammy hands up underneath his shirt while they were still sleeping. Great.

The bathroom door was still closed when Sora made it back to his room, but the remaining pancakes were nowhere to be seen, there were more clothes on the floor, and the dirtied blanket lay crumpled on top of the bed. Sora would deal with that later. The faucet had been turned off, so he toed the floor near the bathroom door and was relieved to find that his socks came back dry. Vanitas hadn’t overflowed the tub, at least.

“Who’s there?” Sora heard a voice from inside that didn’t sound like Vanitas’ at all. It sounded like Vanitas trying to sound like him, and badly. When was this going to stop being difficult?

“It’s me, Vanitas. Open the door.”

Vanitas’ regular cadence returned, but he mumbled so badly that Sora almost didn’t hear him. “Riku tried to get in.”

 _“Riku’s here?”_ Sora groaned. He scrambled back to the bedroom door to lock it, hovered a moment as he realized that a locked door wouldn’t necessarily stop Riku, gave up on it, then ran back. “Where’d he go? What happened?”

“I told him I was—you were—still sick and to go away.”

“You _pretended to be me?”_ Sora was flabbergasted. “And it _worked on him?”_

“He was going to open the door so I started coughing and making noises like when you…” A pause. “When you let me out of you.”

Sora slid a hand down his face. That must have actually been pretty convincing.

“He’s bringing Aqua,” Vanitas said urgently, answering Sora’s very next question of why Riku hadn’t taken that as reason to break the door down, Keyblade or no. Sora was frankly surprised he’d demonstrated that kind of restraint.

“Vanitaaas,” Sora whined, thumping his head to rest it on the door. “Can you just come out and explain to them? I won’t let them hurt you, I promise.”

More silence was his only answer, and it was quickly interrupted by two pairs of footsteps clattering down the hallway outside. Sora took a breath to steady himself just before the doorhandle was being jostled.

“Sora? Sora!!”

Sora nearly tripped trying to get to the door before Riku summoned a Keyblade. “I’m here! I’m fine!” Sora fumbled with the lock, but managed to get the door open quickly enough. Riku stood in the hallway with Aqua right behind him, their battle stances quickly deflating.

“What happened? Are you all right? Riku said—” Aqua began.

“I’m fine! I’m okay!” Sora put his hands up in surrender. “I promise!”

“It sounded like you were—” Riku continued, eyes still wide with concern.

Sora waved his hands. “Yeah, yeah—but now I’m feeling better!” He flashed a sheepish smile. “I guess I just had to get it out of my system. And I did!”

“Was it the food?” Aqua said mournfully. “I can take it back—”

Sora shook his head. “No, no! That was delicious!”

Aqua let out a large breath, then gave Riku a sympathetic look. She brought a gentle hand to his shoulder. “He’s fine, Riku. Just like I said.”

Riku’s shoulders didn’t relax, and he had started to lean slightly, trying to see inside Sora’s room. Sora kept adjusting his posture slightly to block him. “What did you want to talk about, Riku?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Riku frowned at him. “Can I speak with Sora alone?”

Aqua glanced to Sora for confirmation, and eventually he nodded. She took her hand off Riku’s shoulder. “All right. But both of you, let me know if you need anything.”

Sora and Riku quietly watched her retreat back down the hall. Once she was out of earshot, Riku shouldered into the room.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” As soon as Sora was out of the doorframe, Riku shut the door behind them.

“What was that about?” Riku immediately asked. “You were in trouble, and you wouldn’t even let me—” He was about to gesture towards the bathroom when he froze.

“I’m sorry, Riku! I really wasn’t feeling well, so—”

 _“Sora,”_ Riku interrupted him, pointing towards the bathroom door. “What’s in there?”

“…What do you mean?” Sora asked, trying to sound innocent.

“This whole bedroom still reeks of darkness, and it’s all coming from there,” Riku said, a twinge of hurt in his voice. “And the stained blanket? What was I supposed to think? Sora, I thought you were…” He let the last words fall unsaid. _“Please_ tell me what’s going on.”

Sora chewed the inside of his cheek, heart already trying to bend to Riku’s words like a tree in the ocean wind, but he kept his feet firmly planted. Riku’s trust in him would have to be enough, because he wouldn’t betray Vanitas’. Sora lifted his chin to look Riku straight in the eyes. “I can’t,” he declared.

“Sora,” Riku all but pleaded. “I’m—”

Vanitas opened the door then— _finally._ He was in another set of Sora’s clothes, hair damp from a bath and head held as high as a prisoner about to be marched to the gallows.

Riku stared at him for a few seconds, recent memories reconfiguring themselves, then turned back to Sora. “See, now _that_ makes sense.”

Riku found supplies to clean the bathroom while Sora went to get fresh sheets, and then they got to work. Vanitas actually seemed to have made some attempt to clean the bathroom, but it looked as if he’d tried to wipe the tub with the shreds of darkness, which had just made everything worse.

“He hardly talks, but he hasn’t tried to leave yet,” Sora continued to explain, quietly. “I think it’s because he’s still too weak to use his Keyblade, or else he probably would have busted out of here already.”

“How long has he been in you?” Riku asked, sounding a little like Vanitas was a disease Sora had contracted, and he wasn’t exactly wrong. In unison, the two of them turned to look at the bed where Vanitas had been watching them, curled up in the dirty blanket. If nothing else, he was out of the way.

Sora gave an earnest shrug. “No idea. At least he’s out now.” He resumed his scrubbing.

“And we’re not going to tell anyone?” Riku asked, again.

“No,” Sora said, again. “Not until he says he’s ready.”

They finished with the tub, and while Riku bagged up the dirtied rags, Sora walked over to Vanitas. “We need to change the sheets now.”

“Get out.”

“Vanitas, this is _my room.”_

Vanitas’ red eyes flicked to Riku. “I mean him.”

Riku blanched. “What? Why?”

Sora gave him an apologetic look. “Riku, can you…”

“Sora, come on.”

“Just for a sec, okay?”

Riku let out a heavy sigh, but Sora was pretty sure he was still riding the high of him not being sick anymore, and would be for a while. “I’ll go get rid of these,” he said at last, holding up the trash bag. “Any chance I can take the sheets?”

Sora pulled the dirty blanket from Vanitas, who made an unintelligible noise of protest. When he stood up to take it back, Sora took the chance to pull the sheets off the bed, then balled them up with the blanket and tossed the bundle to Riku.

“Thank you,” he said, catching it.

“See you in a bit, Riku.”

“Don’t!” Vanitas growled, but Sora put his hand out before he could give chase. Vanitas glared at him furiously, crimson eyes practically glowing.

“Are you still that cold?” Sora asked once Riku had left. Vanitas had changed into a long-sleeved shirt while Sora had been gone, but it apparently wasn’t enough. Sora went to his closet to look for a hoodie.

“I was warm before,” Vanitas said quietly. “But it’s cold out here.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sora said idly, flipping through the hangers to find a hoodie with long sleeves. “What do you remember?”

Vanitas climbed back onto the bed, eyes cast to the stone floor. “When I was broken, unraveling into the sky, you breathed me back inside you.”

Sora handed him the hoodie, which Vanitas quickly pulled on. “You mean in the Keyblade Graveyard?” Sora was just glad he was answering questions, even if it was in the most obtuse way possible.

Vanitas resumed his staring contest with the ground. “There were times before that. I don’t know.”

Sora didn’t either, so he changed his line of questioning. “So why’d you only come out now?” As frustrating as the past day had been, Sora would’ve welcomed any familiar face over the course of the past year, even if it spent most of the time glaring at him.

“The air changed,” Vanitas said. “It woke me up.” He fiddled with the sleeve of the hoodie.

Sora frowned thoughtfully. He figured it made about as much sense as it was going to make. “So what do you want to do? Did you decide?”

Vanitas was quiet, so Sora came to sit beside him. Immediately, he turned towards Sora the way he had last night, posture opening like a flower towards the sun. Sora let him slide into his arms again, and his shadow wasn’t as cold as he’d been before. Vanitas wrapped his arms around Sora, drawing their bodies together like stitched threads closing a tear in fabric, and rested his head in the crook of his neck to fit against Sora’s collarbone like a patch on a quilt.

“I want to stay here.”

Sora stroked a hand through Vanitas’ dark hair. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been listening to [Harbor Me by The Mountain Goats](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EpiLvY1JUs) on loop this week and couldn't get this idea out of my head, so now I'm sitting here with this fic and [this art.](https://twitter.com/toppiegames/status/1335741105363533827) That's the way it goes sometimes.
> 
> vanitas: [standing like a sleep paralysis demon]  
> sora: USE YOUR WORDS
> 
> Did you know that the KH Melody of Memory cafe in Japan serves honey milk tea in a winnie the pooh mug. GOD


End file.
